Harry Potter and the Serpent's Scent
by Futile Enigma
Summary: Abandoned. Year six AU. Harry is in Slytherin, with Blaise Zabini and Tracey Davis as best friends. What happens when Harry finds a magical artifact called the Serpent's Scent. Will it enable him to save the wizarding world, or lead to its ultimate doom?


Disclaimer: I do not own any asspect of the Harry Potter series. It all belong to J.K. Rowlling and her affiliates. This disclaimer will cover the whole story.

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**Chapter One  
_The Strangeness at Privet Drive

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_**

It was a bright and sunny afternoon in Little Whinging, Surrey, and all along Privet Drive there was a flurry of activity. Children ran in the street playing a pick-up game of football, while adults watched from their porches, with stiff drinks in hand of course, cheering on their individual offspring in Britain's national pastime. It was a picture perfect community, and any strangeness was not tolerated, as these hard-working, upper-middle class Britonians liked their peace and quiet. Who could blame them though? They had comfortable lives, and if strangeness, such and magic and dragons, and a variety of other abnormal, fairy-tale like things actually existed, their comfortable ways of life might be threatened. Unfortunately for them, those strange and abnormal things existed, and lived among them, in the smallest bedroom at number four, Privet Drive.

At the very moment in said bedroom, the strangeness stirred, one eye opening, and another one shortly following. With this excruciating task done, the strangeness felt it was ready to face the day, so with an astounding amount of energy for a strangeness of that age, it jumped out of bed and walked over to its small, wooden closet and opened the door. Catching a glimpse of itself in the mirror on the inside of the door, it had to smile, as things were finally starting to look better for it.

The reflection in the mirror was of a boy in his mid-teens, with black hair, and a pair of emerald eyes, which were squinting at the moment as the boy had forget to put on his glasses when he arose from bed. He was of an average height, never being the shortest kid in the line, but wound defiantly be carded if he wanted to buy a pack of cigarettes, not that he ever would, such Muggle vices were beneath aSlytherin.

Yes, this boy was fact a Slytherin, and he was damn proud of it. He could not have imagined his time at Hogwarts as anything else, and indeed, would most likely not have survived had he not been able to utilize his Slytherin cunning to get out of the many sticky situations he had been in. His ambition also motivated him to go beyond daily schooling and learn a plethora of spells, both offensive and defensive, and even a few dark curses, so that he would survive when the time came.

**Flashback**

"_No, Potter, you can't say the spell aloud. It gives your attacker too much of an advantage," said his now irritated potions master, turned dueling instructor, "I need not remind you who it is you will have to go up against in the future."_

"_Yes professor, it's just turning out more difficult then I originally thought it would be. I was usually good at learning new spells before I had to say them silently," Potter told Severus Snape, who was the potions master currently training him._

"_Harry look at me," commanded Snape, pulling the boy's chin up so that they could look into each others eyes, " I know you can do this if you put your mind to it. You have exceeded all expectation of you until now, yet I know that with a bit more practice you will become proficient in wordless casting. You're a Slytherin, stop acting like a hopeless Gryffindor and pull yourself together boy."_

_Harry Potter smiled inwardly, knowing that his teacher was trying to motivate him into action with the last comment, however his face remained impassive, for Slytherin's learn at the very beginning not to show emotion, or else you get taken advantage of._

"_Yes professor."_

"_Good, now again, cast the stunner."_

_Harry concentrated, yet his face didn't appear scrunched up nor constipated as is normally assumed with intense concentration. Snape taught him long ago that you didn't have to make stupid faces to succeed in something. Intoning 'Stupefy' as fiercely as he could, he watched in amazement as a thin, weak beam of light left his wand and impacted against Snape's shield, which had no problem repelling the weak curse._

"_Excellent work, Potter. Not as powerful as you normally would make it, but it's a start. Power will come in time," Snape said, "Now were going to practice the shield charm, so get ready."_

_Harry gulped, knowing that he was going to be aching tomorrow from the number of times he was going to hit the floor courtesy of Snape's stunner._

**End Flashback**

Yes this boy was Harry James Potter, and he was currently doing push-ups on his bedroom floor. He knew he wasn't in perfect shape, after all, Quidditch, while requiring skill, didn't really need all that much physical stamina, except perhaps endurance for long games. Harry realized this when Death Eaters attacked Platform 9 ¾ this past summer as he was getting ready to go back to the Dursleys.

**Flashback**

_Stepping off the Express Harry looked around gloomily. He always hated this time of year, when Hogwarts let off for the summer holidays, and he was faced with the imminent arrival of the Dursleys. He received a poke in the small of his back as an impatient voice sounded behind him._

"_Come on Harry, your blocking the whole carriage with your musings. I know you don't like them, but if you don't get a move on I'll turn you into a pot," whined his best friend ever since the first train ride. Blaise Zabini was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. Icy-blue eyes sparkled with mirth as she mockingly tossed her black hair back, her features arranged into a scowl. Harry wasn't fooled as she pulled this stunt many times before to get what she wanted._

"_All right Blaise, don't get your knickers in a knot," Harry cheekily answered her, while levitating his trunk and charming it to follow him. This was the last time he was able to do magic for another three months, so he figured he'd take full advantage of it._

"_Oi, don't walk away from me, Potter I was talking to you," yelled Blaise after him, before quickly levitating her own trunk and giving chase to Harry, who was moving towards the magical barrier that separated the magic world from the Muggle one._

"_I was under the impression that you told me to get a move on," Harry smirked at her. The smirk coincidently is a right of passage for all Slytherins. "One cannot be a true Slytherin until one has mastered the smirk," were the words of a Slytherin prefect during Harry's first year. Harry was sure he was kidding, but he still dutifully perfected the smirk, and now used it liberally._

"_Wait up you two, don't leave without me," came a shout from behind a tall Ravenclaw, but Harry knew who it was. Tracy Davis, his other best friend, was currently locking lips with that tall Ravenclaw, who happened to be her boyfriend. Giving him a quick hug, she ran up to Blaise and Harry, positively glowing._

"_Isn't he wonderful?" giggled Tracy, turning around and giving her boyfriend one last quick wave._

"_Well that's a matter of opinion. He reminds me a bit of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts," Harry answered while Blaise grinned at her two friends, waiting to see what Tracey's reaction would be. As predicted, it was calm and collected, as a true Slytherin faced with opposition._

"_Don't be angry with me Harry just because Pansy finally decided to get over Draco and come after you. I bet you enjoy her screechy little voice calling you 'Potty-poo', or whatever other ridiculous pet names she makes up for you."_

_Harry winced, as what she had said was completely true. Pansy indeed had set her sights on Harry this past year, and he could not say that he appreciated it. Even worse it seemed Draco was actually jealous of him, which put Harry in a very awkward position indeed._

"_Okay girls, I have to get going, I've kept the Dursleys waiting long enough. Write to me or else I'm going to go mad with only the Muggles to talk to," Harry told his two best friends, enveloping them both in a hug. They both placed a kiss on each of his cheeks, Blaise saying, "My mum is going to try to get Dumbledore to let you come stay at Zabini Manor around your birthday, but hopefully we'll get you out quicker."_

"_Thanks, hopefully I'll see you both soo---," but Harry was cut off as half a dozen screams ripped through the air. Whipping around Harry saw a Death Eater advancing upon him, with another eight attacking random bystanders. Thankfully Voldemort was nowhere to be seen._

"_Crucio," screamed the advancing Death Eater in a female voice, aiming surprisingly not at Harry, but at Tracey. She let out a scream of delight as Harry pushed Tracey out of the way, taking the curse straight in the chest. Evidently that was her plan all along. Falling down, Harry started screaming as the white hot knives started piercing his skin. The curse was cut of abruptly as Blaise set a stunner the Death Eater's way, effectively putting her out of the fight, at least for now._

_Getting up slowly Harry scanned his surroundings, still a bit disoriented from the curse. It was short, but it was still painful. Only two Auror's were present, the ones presumably guarding the barrier to the Muggle world. A handful of parents also took up the fight, fighting desperately to protect their children. No doubt alarms were going off in the Ministry, but would help arrive too late?_

_Telling the two girls to stay put Harry ran into the fray. The dueling lessons from Snape were finally going to be put to the test. Running up behind a Death Eater torturing a blonde-haired woman, Harry quickly stunned him silently. Not pausing to see if the woman was okay, he moved on, but was spotted this time by a fairly large Death Eater, who brandished his wand in Harry's direction. Harry smirked as he saw the movements were choppy, signifying that he was not from Voldemort's pick of the litter._

"_Effrego," he yelled in a deep baritone, but Harry deflected the curse upwards, where it disappeared into the sky. Momentarily stunned that a fifteen year old managed to deflect his curse, the man paused for a brief second. That was all that Harry needed as he shot a intoned 'Torpeo Cruor' in his mind. The man doubled over, his wand falling to the floor with a clatter as he started vomiting up blood. Harry watched with a hint a amusement as the man fell to the ground, his face ghostly pale, as a small pool of blood formed on the ground near his face. Deciding he didn't want to kill the Death Eater, he reversed the curse and quickly stunned him with a silent 'Stupefy.'_

_Looking up, Harry saw the remaining four Death Eaters activate portkeys, effectively taking them away from the battle. The entire battle lasted two minutes, and thankfully only the Cruciatus_ _Unforgivable was cast, and the worst injury was a shattered bone, which one of the knocked-out Aurors was sporting. Half a dozen pops signified the arrival of Dumbledore and his Order, but Harry _turned_ away from them in contempt. He had yet to forgive the old man for sending him to the Dursleys every summer, plus the withholding of the Prophesy greatly angered the black-haired teen. Ministry Aurors had yet to arrive._

_Walking away, Harry went to see if his two friends were okay._

**End Flashback**

Having finished his morning exercises, Harry went over to his desk. After glancing at the various pieces of parchment littering it, he noticed the letters he got from his various friends on his birthday. Picking the one up from Blaise, he still got that burning feeling of anger as he read it for what could have been the tenth time.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Birthday! Only one more year and you can do magic outside of school. I can't wait for that day. I'm going to get my brother back for all those little jinx's he puts on my make-up. But this letter is about you not me, so yeah…_

_It turns out you won't be able to come out to Zabini Manor after all, Dumbledore's orders. My mum and dad are trying to convince him to let you out of that Muggle house as I'm writing this, but I don't think it will do any good. He seems adamant about you staying there for some odd reason. As if you would safer their then at my house; we have dozens of different wards protecting the manor._

_Hopefully my present will get your mind off staying there; it's a book on Occlumency. Father told me that the mind is the most powerful weapon, so I thought you should know how to protect your best weapon against the Dark Lord. It won't be easy learning it yourself, but you can at least learn the basics of it. Father was going to teach you as much a he knew of it when you came to stay here, but now that won't be happening._

_Once again I'm sorry you can't come, but I guess I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express. 'Till then…_

_Love from your best friend,_

_Blaise_

_P.S. My brother says hi._

A half dozen other letters were spread out on his desk, all bearing birthday greetings from his friends at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy had even written Harry, saying he was didn't care anymore that Pansy shifted her attention on Harry, and that he was even a bit grateful. Harry couldn't blame him in the slightest, as he himself wished she would move on from him.

Harry knew why Dumbledore didn't want him to go over Zabini Manor. After the attack on the platform, Dumbledore's opinion that Harry was only safe at the Dursleys was further reinforced. The blood magic that was explained to Harry was the reasoning Dumbledore gave. Harry had a sneaking suspicion in his mind that another reason might be that the Zabini family were pure-blood Slytherin's, and while they had been neutral in the last war, and planned to be again, Dumbledore still couldn't see them as trustworthy because of his prejudice.

Like Blaise had told him to, he had studied the Occlumency book, and had tried to start the construction of his own mind shields. He would have to get help from Professor Snape once he returned to Hogwarts, but even the flimsy shields he could muster up now were better then nothing. He had finished his homework a few weeks back, and was looking over his books from the past year. Even though he felt he had done reasonably well on his Ordinary Wizarding Level tests, a little review couldn't hurt. Besides, he was extremely bored at the Dursleys.

Another way he had found to combat the boredom was exercising. Along with the push-ups, he also did a number of sit-ups. Running to the nearby park everyday, too, had put Harry in pretty good shape.

He was no longer the sickly looking child he was a few years back, but now had some muscle to show. He wasn't stocky by any means of the word, but the amount of muscle he did have was well defined. He also was able to run to the park without getting tired anymore.

Since it was already noon, he decided to forgo the running for today and went to take a quick shower. After getting dressed he walked downstairs into the kitchen.

"So you finally decided to get up you lazy boy," screeched his Aunt Petunia. Harry inwardly winched as his aunt's annoying voice reminded him too much of Pansy Parkinson, who scared him even more then Voldemort. "Well since you decided to be so lazy today you can help me in the garden. There is too much in there for me to do to have it ready in time for the Little Whinging lawn competition."

Harry didn't particularly mind working in the garden, as it was one of the more pleasant chores the Dursleys assigned to him, but Aunt Petunia's presence always made it a terrible ordeal. In her eyes, he always did even the most menial tasks wrong, so she felt it was her duty to micro-manage everything he did in the garden. So after a few pieces of toast, he went outside to the small shed that the Dursleys owned, his aunt hot on his heels, and grabbed a pair of working gloves and other assorted gardening tools.

Since he had been working on the garden with his aunt for a couple of weeks, there was not much to do except pulling a few weeds and trimming the rose bushes a bit. With this done Harry took a quick shower and decided he would take a stroll around Little Whinging, since he had nothing to do, and since Dumbledore has told him not to leave the house.

When Harry entered his room however, all thoughts of a stroll left his head in an instant. Sitting there on his bed was none other then Blaise Zabini, a huge grin on her face, taking in his sweaty and dirt-laden cloths.

'_Oh bloody hell. She's going to hold this over my head forever.'_

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_A/N: Well this was my first attempt at writing fanfiction. Please review and let me know what you think._


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